The Boy Who Looks Like Me
by Vol lady
Summary: Jarrod returns from a long trip to Sacramento to find his office has been dynamited by some unknown person. As the threat level increases, the only suspect he and his brothers can find is a young man who looks suspiciously like him.
1. Chapter 1

The Boy Who Looks Like Me

Chapter 1

Autumn, 1878

The four and a half hour train ride from Sacramento to Stockton never seemed so long and Jarrod never had more trouble staying awake for it. Weeks away from home, lobbying for prison reform yet again, had really ground him down, with its long nights and early mornings. He felt more like 75 than 35 by the time the legislature adjourned, and he felt even more frustrated than ever that they had only passed token laws that put bandages on the problem. But, as he told himself year after year, sometimes you have to butt your head against a wall for a very long time before even one brick moved.

It wasn't until the train jerked to a halt in Stockton that Jarrod even realized he'd fallen asleep. He gathered up his papers and stuffed them into his briefcase while the train dislodged regular passengers and freight. Then he headed toward his baggage to grab it before getting off.

His brother Nick crashed through the door, virtually singing, "Come on, you lazy product of a corrupt government circus act!" Nick tried to grab him and lift him into the air.

But Jarrod dodged him and gave him and bear hug of his own. "Good to see you, you capitalist land grabber!"

It had been more than a month since they'd seen each other, but neither one noticed much of a change in the other. "Where's your stuff?" Nick asked.

Jarrod pointed to his bags under the middle window of the car, and Nick grabbed them while he grabbed two fat briefcases himself. "So what's new?" Jarrod asked as they climbed off.

They climbed down to the platform and then down to the street where a buggy waited. They loaded Jarrod's things into the back of the buggy before Nick said, "Well, there is a bit of news I oughtta let you in on."

"What's that?" Jarrod asked.

Nick motioned him to climb into the buggy as he climbed in and took the reins. Once Jarrod was in, Nick backed the buggy up and then steered it down the street. Then he only had to point.

Jarrod looked to see the building where his office was. Or actually, wasn't. The building his office was in and the buildings on either side of it were only piles of rubble.

"What the - ?!" Jarrod cried, almost standing up in the buggy.

Nick pulled up beside the remains of the buildings.

"When did this happen?!" Jarrod belted out.

"Two nights ago," Nick said. "We figured since you were heading on home today, there wasn't much sense in wiring you about it. Somebody doesn't like you again, big brother."

Jarrod looked at him, open-mouthed. "What are you talking about?"

"Dynamite," Nick said. "About five times the charge that old Joshua Cunningham threw at you a while back. But whoever did it probably knew you weren't there, or anybody else was, for that matter. It looks like more of a warning than anything."

"That's a helluva warning," Jarrod said, and his anger began to surge up into his throat.

Jarrod's anger was not something people wanted to raise up. The locals would rather face Nick's fiery temper than Jarrod's smoldering explosion. Nick was quick to anger, but at least it burned out fast. Jarrod's might be slow in comparison, but when it blew, it stayed blown.

Jarrod climbed out of the buggy and stood facing the ruins of his office and several others. "Has anybody tried to salvage anything out of this?" he asked.

Nick stayed in the buggy. "No," Nick said.

"How do you know it was aimed at me?"

"Chad at the depot saw the blast come out of your office."

Jarrod heaved a big sigh. "Has Fred Madden investigated this?"

"He's at it."

Jarrod turned on him. "Why aren't you more upset about this? The paperwork on every case I had to put on hold while I was gone was in there!"

"I know," Nick said calmly, "but I figured you'd be upset enough for both of us."

Jarrod said, "I want to go see Fred."

"Figured you would, but you'd better ease up first," Nick said.

Jarrod turned as if he hadn't heard him and walked to the sheriff's office, noticing for the first time that the street was full of people and that they were moving out of his way – far out of his way. He was damned happy about that. If whoever destroyed his office was watching, Jarrod wanted the man to know every bit of the anger he felt. Nick followed along in the buggy, not really worried about his brother's temper, at least not yet.

Jarrod barged into the sheriff's office as Nick hitched the buggy to the rail. Sheriff Madden was sitting at his desk, looked up and saw Jarrod's expression, and didn't even bother with a greeting. "Saw your office, did you?"

"I saw it," Jarrod said, controlling his temper.

"I don't have any suspects yet – nobody saw who threw the dynamite in."

Nick came in then.

"Nick said Chad at the depot saw the explosion," Jarrod said.

"He did, but he only saw the back of a man running into the alley beside the theatre. He couldn't identify him and he didn't see him throw the dynamite in."

"Who are you questioning? Have there been any threats against me lately? Has anybody sounded happy about the explosion?"

"Give me a chance to answer, Jarrod!" the sheriff said and stood up. At six foot six, he was the tallest man in town and he often used that to calm irate people down, but it never worked with a Barkley and it didn't work now. "I haven't heard any threats and so far nobody's been saying anything about the explosion except the standard things – 'did you hear that,' 'who do you think did it,' " Then after a brief hesitation, he decided to say the thing he'd heard that might get to Jarrod the most. "'How long before you think the lawyer will have his hands around somebody's throat?'"

Jarrod flamed up, but it immediately died down. As handy as his temper might be sometimes, he didn't like being thought of as the local thug. He really didn't like it when his family or friends like the sheriff worried that he might actually hurt someone, but he knew that once you did something to give you the reputation, it would never go away. "I'm sorry, Fred," he said. "I'm just – tired from too much time in Sacramento and – LIVID that my office is gone!"

He felt Nick's hand land on his shoulder. "Look, why don't we head on home? You get some rest, let Fred do his job. It won't be long before we get a bead on whoever's behind this."

"When can we see if anything can be salvaged?" Jarrod asked.

"Looters have had at it already," the sheriff said. "Must have taken them all of five minutes to move in."

"Didn't you have anybody guard it?!"

"Sure I did, but the looters moved in fast before I could get anybody over there!"

Jarrod moaned.

"Get some of your men over here tomorrow," the sheriff said. "They might be able to find a few things, but chances are anything worth stealing has been stolen and anything made of paper didn't survive the blast."

"Come on," Nick said and pulled at Jarrod's shoulder a little.

Jarrod made an angry huffing noise and went out the door. Nick looked at Sheriff Madden, who sighed at him. "Never dreamed I'd be preferring your temper to his."

Nick said, "Me neither, but it sure is nice to be the easy going one for a while."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick's ride home was with Jarrod's smoldering silence beside him, but as they drew near the house, he could feel his brother finally relax. They pulled up to the front door and unloaded Jarrod's baggage, then Nick said, "I'll get the horses to the barn – leave what you want here and I'll carry it in."

Jarrod just nodded and went into the house with his briefcases. His mother and sister were coming toward the door to greet him as he came in.

"Oh, Jarrod, welcome home," Victoria said as he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Audra did the same, saying, "We've missed you so much. I hope you're not planning on leaving again anytime soon."

"No, looks like I have too much work to do here for a while," Jarrod said.

"You saw your office," Victoria said.

"Couldn't miss it," he replied and put his briefcases down on the floor out of the way. Then he took a deep breath, looked at the two women he loved most in the world, and smiled. "I don't want to hear about the bad news. Tell me what else has been happening with you while I've been gone."

Victoria took him by the hand and led him into the parlor, Audra following along. Victoria said, "Audra, would you pour us all some sherry?"

Audra stopped at the small table in the parlor where they kept refreshments and began to pour while Victoria and Jarrod sat down together on the settee.

Victoria said, "I suppose Nick filled you in on the happenings here at the ranch."

"Actually, we didn't talk much," Jarrod said, then looked embarrassed at his mother's questioning expression. "I was too busy getting my temper back under control."

"Well, then," Victoria said as Audra handed her and Jarrod some sherry, passing on any herself as she took a seat in one of the armchairs. "We have two new contracts for beef for the army and a new filly and a new colt. We've had the orphans out here picnicking in the meadow by the creek. Audra has finished the wedding dress she was making for her friend Carol."

Nick came in the front door with Jarrod's suitcases and put them down by the stairs. He put his hat down and came into the parlor. "And Heath and I are going to have to move the south pasture herd up to the north pasture next week. Wanna come?"

"I have a feeling I'll be spending all my time reconstructing what's been deconstructed at my office," Jarrod said, then clenched his eyes closed and gave an irritated shake of the head.

"Can we help you in any way?" Audra asked.

Jarrod leaned back and sighed. "I don't know yet. I'll have to see what I have around here on those cases. Might be able to put some things back together, and we'll get some men there in town to go through the rubble tomorrow."

"Do you have any idea who might have done it?" Victoria asked. "Is there anyone who has been threatening you?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Not a soul that I'm aware of, but I might get a better idea when we go through what's left of my office tomorrow."

Nick said, "Heath and I will go with you. You'll be busy combing through things, and you'll need somebody to watch the watchers."

"Watch the watchers?" Audra asked.

"Sometimes the culprit comes back to watch the aftereffects of what he did," Jarrod said. "Nick's right. If we have three sets of eyes watching who comes by, we might be able to get some idea of who's behind this."

"Just please be careful," Victoria said.

Jarrod finished off his sherry with a final gulp and got up. "Always. Now, I'd better get unpacked. Pardon me, ladies, Nick."

Jarrod went back to the foyer, picked up his suitcases and took them upstairs.

"Oh, I'll bet he was not a happy man when he saw his office," Victoria said.

"The explosion rivaled the real explosion," Nick said. "But I was good. I kept my head."

Victoria smiled. "If there's one good thing to come out of Jarrod's shortening temper this past year, it's that your temper has become much longer."

"Whoever thought I would be the voice of reason in the Barkley family?"

Audra smirked. "I wouldn't go that far."

XXXXXXXXX

After hours of work the next day, the only thing they could find that was of any use to Jarrod was at the bottom of the pile of debris in his smashed desk. Several of the lower drawers had simply collapsed under the weight of the wreckage and the paper contents of all of them were pretty much intact. But the top of the desk had clearly born the brunt of the explosion. It was shattered into splinters large and small.

Jarrod packed what papers he thought he could still use into a box they had brought along. That was all that was left of his papers, one partly filled box. From the library, there were a few books that were not damaged, but almost all of them looked like they had burst open from the explosion and left their pages shredded and flying away in the wind.

At the end of all that work, Jarrod had only two partially filled boxes he could still make use of.

Heath and Nick had been watching to see if anyone who came by to watch the work had come by more than once. Many women did, shook their heads, went away and came back, but it was clear they all were simply stopping by on their way from one place to another and then back again. A lot of the local youngsters came by too, but they never stayed more than 30 seconds and never came back – the whole enterprise was too boring for an eight-year-old.

There was, however, a man who caught Heath's attention, and for an odd reason. Heath spotted him twice, behind the crowd of women. He was tall, black-haired, and each time Heath just caught a glimpse. He was there and gone so fast Heath thought he might be imagining things, because he could have sworn –

No, he just didn't get a good enough look, but if he came for a third time, he would be sure to get a good one and maybe even approach the man.

But he did not come a third time. By then, Nick was sighing, "I didn't catch a thing among all these spectators. Did you?"

"I'm not sure," Heath said. "Did you catch a look at a tall man in back of the women? I think he came twice."

"No. What else did he look like?"

Heath heaved a sigh. "Probably my imagination, but to me, he looked a lot like Jarrod."

Nick perked up.

XXXXXXXXXXX

At home, after several hours of going through pieces of paper, Jarrod's eyes grew tired and he gave up reviewing the documents. He was pleased many were good enough for him to reconstruct almost entire files from, but even that was going to take a lot more work.

Neither Nick nor Heath had said anything helpful about people they saw in town. They both denied seeing anybody suspicious at all, and Jarrod had to admit to himself that he did not do a good job of looking. His mind was too much on what they might find in the rubble.

Now, it was getting very late. Jarrod left the library to go to bed, realizing he was the only one still up. The lamps were out everywhere but the foyer and the upstairs hall. He put out the light in the foyer and trudged his way halfway up the stairs before he stopped.

Something had made him stop. He couldn't say what it was. Something caught out of the corner of his eye or at the edge of his hearing. He looked around, saw nothing, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone.

He turned and went back down, as if he had forgotten something, and went back to the library. He had already extinguished the lamp there, so he relit it. Nothing had changed in the library since he left it. Still, he had that nasty itching inside. Someone who didn't belong here was in the house.

Then he got the terrible feeling that someone was about to dynamite the house.

He ran into the foyer and quickly relit a lamp he had just extinguished, yelling, "Nick! Heath! Get up!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In a few moments Nick and Heath came flying out of their rooms, half dressed, guns in hand. Jarrod had a lamp lit in the parlor and was looking everywhere around the room, but the feeling that someone was here had left him. "Quick, look around," he said to his brothers. "I think someone was in here."

Heath and Nick took off in opposite directions. A few moments later, both Victoria and Audra came out of their rooms, tying robes around themselves. "What's going on?" Victoria called from the second floor landing as she came down.

Jarrod headed them off at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm not sure. Just stay here."

He was about to start a search himself when Nick and Heath returned from the other rooms on the first floor.

"I didn't find anything," Heath said.

"Neither did I," Nick said. "Did you see someone?"

"Not exactly," Jarrod said.

"You've been up half the night," Victoria said. "Are you sure you didn't just fall asleep?"

"If I did, I was sleep walking up the stairs when I did it," Jarrod said.

"I'm gonna check outside," Heath said and headed for the front door.

"What did you see?" Nick asked.

"I'm not sure. Movement, off to the side, as I was coming upstairs," Jarrod said.

"I'm gonna go wake a couple of the hands and get a guard posted," Nick said, and he headed for the front door.

Audra looked very frightened, so Jarrod put his arm around her and squeezed. He was beginning to feel foolish for waking everyone up. There was no one here who wasn't supposed to be. Still, he could have sworn…

Heath came back in. "I didn't see anybody. Nick's waking a couple of the hands."

"I'm sorry," Jarrod said and kissed Audra's hair. "Maybe I was drifting off on my feet."

"Or maybe just working all day in your blown up office got to you," Heath said. And he thought of what he thought he saw in town – maybe his wasn't the only imagination at work.

"Maybe," Jarrod agreed. "I think you should go back to bed," he said to his mother and sister. "Everything is all right down here."

"I don't think I'll be going back to sleep," Audra said.

"Give it a try, honey," Jarrod said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Victoria touched his arm. "You need some sleep yourself. Come up to bed."

"In a moment," he said. "Soon as Nick comes in."

Victoria gave Audra a guiding hand upstairs and before long they were back in their rooms, whether they ever went back to sleep or not.

Heath asked Jarrod, "Are you sure you saw something?"

"No," Jarrod said. "Maybe I felt it more than saw it. But you're probably right. Working all day at my blown-up office and all evening with my blown-up papers probably just got to me."

"Maybe, but maybe not," Heath said. "I think I'll park myself here in the living room for a while, keep some lights burning. Until we figure out who bombed your office, we'd better take some extra precautions around here."

Jarrod grunted his agreement. "You're sure you haven't heard anything around town, somebody after me for some reason?"

Heath shook his head. "Not a word, but I'll be listening a lot closer from now on."

Nick came back in. "All right, I have two men up and getting ready to patrol for the rest of the night. I think we'd better keep that up until we figure out who's after you, Jarrod."

"We were just talking about that," Heath said. "I'm gonna take the first watch down here."

Nick checked the clock. It was almost midnight. "I'll wake you in a couple hours and spell you. Jarrod, you'd better get some sleep. You look like a walking dead man."

"Let's hope I'm not one," Jarrod muttered. "Good night," he said and headed up the stairs.

Nick and Heath watched him and were sure he was safely out of earshot before Heath said, "Do you think he knows?"

"Who's after him? I don't think he has a clue. We'd better start nosing around town a little deeper, though. I'm not ready to say what he thought he saw tonight was just his imagination."

XXXXXXXXXXX

No one slept well that night, and in the morning, when Jarrod came down for breakfast and found Nick and Heath already there, they all had more reason to worry. Nick and Heath looked up at him, looking very disturbed.

Jarrod looked from one to the other as he sat down. "What is it?"

Nick put a small, folded envelope of something in front of him.

Jarrod picked it up. "What's this?"

"Silas found it in your coffee cup about ten minutes ago," Nick said. "He set the table last night as usual. Somebody put it in there between then and now. We just missed it when we looked around last night – we were looking for a man, not an envelope."

The envelope wasn't sealed, at least not anymore. Jarrod opened it slowly. It had only some white powder in it. Before he could sniff at it, Heath said, "It's rat poison, Jarrod."

Jarrod looked up in alarm that quickly changed to anger. "I'll not have any of this," he said and immediately got up from the table.

"Where you going?" Nick asked.

"Into town to see Fred," Jarrod said and went out the door.

Both Nick and Heath went after him.

"Jarrod, you'd better get some food in you or between the sleeplessness and the starvation, you're gonna kill yourself before whoever is after you does – " Nick said as they went into the foyer.

Their mother and sister were on the stairs and heard him.

"What's going on?" Victoria asked.

Heath said, "Silas found rat poison in Jarrod's coffee cup this morning."

"Then someone was in here last night."

"Seems so."

Jarrod had already grabbed his holster and hat from the rack in the hallway between the dining room and the foyer. He was quickly strapping the gunbelt on.

Nick said, "If you're going into town, I'm going with you."

"No, no," Heath said. "The two of you together will set off another explosion. I'll go."

"I'm going alone," Jarrod said flatly.

Nick glared at him. "Jarrod, you'd better consider this might be a setup, somebody trying to get you out on the road alone."

"Then let them have at me," Jarrod said and headed for the front door.

Nick grabbed his arm, not so much as to stop him as to delay him until Heath could get his own holster and hat on. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, use your head. Take Heath with you and – " 

"And get Heath killed, too," Jarrod said.

"Jarrod – " Victoria started.

"Let me finish!" Nick said. "All right, take me and Heath and a couple of the hands. Safety in numbers, Pappy."

"What, are you going to be my body guards until we find this guy?" Jarrod asked. "You keep guarding me out there and that's just gonna invite him back in here, and I will not have that."

Heath had his holster and hat on, and he handed Nick his holster. Nick strapped it on as he said, "You'd rather he shoot you out there this morning?"

"Jarrod, take Nick and Heath," Victoria said.

Jarrod looked hard at her. "And get all three of us killed right now? Are you ready for that?"

No, she wasn't, but she had no idea what else to do.

Jarrod looked at his brothers. "You're gonna follow me whether I want you to or not, aren't you?"

"Yes," Heath said calmly.

"Then follow me," Jarrod said. "About fifty yards back. If somebody takes a shot at me, you'll have a better chance at catching him."

"Jarrod, that's crazy!" Audra added her two cents. "You could be killed!"

Jarrod looked at her. "Rat poison in here or a bullet out there. I'll risk the bullet before I see all of you drinking rat poison." Or getting dynamited, Jarrod thought to himself.

Jarrod went out the door with his brothers right behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

They left two men guarding the house, but they rode to town Jarrod's way. He rode ahead while his brothers held back about fifty yards.

But nothing happened. Jarrod rode into Stockton and tied his horse up in front of the sheriff's office. Nick and Heath were right behind him.

It was still very early, but Sheriff Madden was in his office already. Jarrod went in before his brothers had hitched their horses and he said, flat out, "Someone got into the house last night, Fred, and left me a little package of rat poison for my morning coffee."

The sheriff jumped up with a "What?"

"You heard me," Jarrod said. "Now I've got two brothers who won't let me go to the outhouse alone," he was saying as Nick and Heath came in. "And as much as I love them, their company 24 hours a day is more than I can take. Where are you in your investigation?"

"I talked to Chad again yesterday, tried to get a better description of the man he saw running away from your office," the sheriff said, "but it was dark, and he couldn't give me anything more."

"What about trying to find out who bought dynamite recently?"

"Only the Barkley ranch bought any dynamite for more than a week before the explosion."

"Wait a minute," Nick said. "We bought dynamite?"

"In this town, only you bought dynamite."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. "We haven't bought any dynamite for well over a month," Heath said.

"Well, somebody from the Barkley ranch did."

Jarrod was already out the door, heading for the dry goods store. Nick and Heath hurried behind him, and the sheriff behind them, and just as before, people took one look at Jarrod's face and got out of his way.

The man who ran the dry goods store was opening up and saw them coming. He didn't like what he saw any more than anyone else in town did. Jarrod, in the lead, was furious. His brothers, maybe twenty feet behind, were only a little less so and the sheriff behind them looked like he meant business, too.

"Watch the watchers," Heath said very quietly to Nick.

They both looked around at the people watching, trying not to break stride. Without saying anything to each other, they were both trying to see if the man Heath had seen the day before was around.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Barkley?" the man who ran the dry goods store said nervously as Jarrod came up to him.

"Let me see the receipt for the dynamite we bought recently," Jarrod said.

"Uh - sure, sure, come on in," the man said.

Soon all the Barkley men and the sheriff were inside the store, waiting for the man to come out from the back room with the receipt. There were faces outside looking in curiously. Nick and Heath took a look at them.

"Window on the right, behind the two women there," Heath said quietly to Nick while he looked back toward the door the store attendant had gone through.

Nick glanced casually that way and saw only a dark head of hair behind the two women. He also looked back at the door to the back room as he said, "Fred, try to get a look at the window on the right, the man behind the two women. Do you know him?"

The sheriff looked and then also looked back at the door that led to the back room. "No, can't say I do, but all I see is black hair."

"Maybe we'll introduce ourselves," Nick said, and he and Heath turned and went back outside.

The man had disappeared already. They were left standing in the middle of a crowd that quickly dispersed. They looked up and down the street, but they did not see the man.

Heath turned and found a couple faces he recognized in the crowd. "Mrs. Henley, Mr. Jones, did you see a man here just now, tall, dark-haired, looked a bit like my brother Jarrod?"

"No, no, I'm sorry," Mrs. Henley said. "I wasn't really looking."

"Have you seen anybody like that around town lately?" Nick asked.

She shook her head. "No, but – I don't really look at strangers closely, you know. Just isn't really a safe thing to do."

"But wouldn't you have noticed a man who looked like Jarrod?"

Mrs. Jones shrugged. "Who notices, Mr. Barkley? There are so many men, so many strangers – "

"Has anybody been talking about such a man?" Heath asked.

The ladies just shook their heads.

Exasperated, Nick and Heath went back inside. Jarrod was taking the receipt from the hand of the store attendant and looking hard at it. The sheriff looked over his shoulder. Nick and Heath came up beside him and Jarrod handed them the receipt.

The signature was illegible.

Jarrod looked at the store attendant. "What was the name of the man who bought this dynamite for us?"

"Mr. Barkley, it – uh - It's – uh- written there."

Jarrod snatched the paper from Nick and waved it at the attendant. "Can you read this name?"

The man was shaking as he took the receipt back and admitted, "No. I just never looked and I – uh - ."

"Take it off our bill," Nick said. "Whoever he was, he didn't buy it for us."

"Of – of course," the clerk stammered.

"Think hard," the sheriff said to the attendant. "If you can't come up with a name, can you give us a description?"

"I – uh – I thought - ."

"You thought what?" Jarrod asked, his patience disappearing.

"Mr. Barkley, he looked a lot like you and I was busy and I thought he – was you."

He said it to Jarrod, who stood up straighter. "I've been in Sacramento for weeks. It was not me. How could you have thought that it was me?"

"He looked like you!" the clerk said. "I thought he was you! Maybe I should have paid more attention, but I thought he was you!"

Nick and Heath looked at each other. Heath said, "Yesterday, while we we going through the office rubble – I thought I saw a man who looked like you, Jarrod."

"What?!" Jarrod bellowed. "You didn't say anything?"

"I just caught a glimpse for a minute before he disappeared," Heath said. "I thought it was just my imagination, but I guess maybe it wasn't."

"All right, somebody who might look vaguely like me is buying dynamite for the Barkley ranch, only it's not for the Barkley ranch," Jarrod said.

"The next time somebody comes in here saying they want to buy something for the Barkley Ranch, you get a name printed down so we can read it, and if it's anything like dynamite or poison or anything designed to kill somebody or destroy something, you get clearance from me or Heath personally first. Got that?" Nick said.

The man nodded nervously. "Yes, sir."

Jarrod turned and walked out, his brothers right behind him.

The sheriff said to the attendant, "If you see that man around town again, I want you to tell me right away. Close the shop if you have to."

"Yes, sir, but sheriff – he looks like Mr. Barkley! All the way down to those blue eyes!"

"Did he say he was Jarrod Barkley?"

"He just mumbled a name. I thought he was Mr. Barkley. I guess I shoulda been paying closer attention, but I was really busy….."

The sheriff said, "You see him again, you get me as fast as you can."

The clerk nodded and breathed easier as the sheriff left.

Jarrod was heading for the Stockton House, but Nick and Heath couldn't tell that.

"Where are you going?" Heath asked.

"Breakfast," Jarrod said flatly. "I'll buy." And he kept on walking with a serious glare in his eyes.

They ate in silence, but heartily. Eggs, ham, biscuits and plenty of coffee. Nick and Heath exchanged a lot of looks, but Jarrod was buried in his food, hardly looking up. When they finally finished and had only coffee left, Nick leaned back in his chair.

"Well, what's the plan now?" he asked.

"I plan to go home," Jarrod said, "work some more on the wreckage of my files."

"We need to get out to the herd," Heath said.

"We're gonna have to leave a guard at the house until we figure this out," Nick said. "Jarrod – "

"No, I don't want a bodyguard," he said quickly.

"It would be safer," Heath said.

For the first time since they'd begun eating, Jarrod looked up at them. "Safer for whom? Me or whoever's after me?"

"Now, there's a good question," Nick said.

"Listen," Jarrod said, "what happened with me in the past is over and done with. Despite what my recent reputation has turned into, I can be angry now and not be violent. I am angry, and I am not violent. I don't need a bodyguard, either to protect me or to keep me from hurting anyone else. I am just angry. That's all."

"That isn't all, Jarrod," Heath said. "Somebody's after you, and with that rat poison this morning, he seems to be stepping up HIS level of violence."

"And apparently, he looks a lot like you," Nick said. "So much so that people who aren't paying close attention or just get a glimpse of him think it IS you."

Jarrod shook his head. "I'll believe it when I see him."

"All right then, but remember something. You're not the only one at risk. He was in the house last night. He dynamited your office. Do I need to put the two together for you?"

"No," Jarrod said, "of course not. I put it together myself last night. You've got guards at the house. Increase the number if you think it's wise. Make sure Mother and Audra have guards. But I don't need or want a bodyguard. If someone takes a shot at me, it's just as easy for him to shoot the bodyguard and two of us end up dead."

"Who says it would be one body guard?"

"What, are you going to post me a whole platoon? Nick, one good ambush and we could have a lot of dead men, and I won't have anybody dead on my account, not anybody in the family and not anybody who works for us."

"You're putting yourself at an awful risk, Jarrod," Heath said.

"So, we just find this guy before he gets to me. We have a potential face, one that looks a lot like mine. People around here have to be noticing that. All we have to do is find him."

"He might not be the one," Nick said. "Will you at least consider sticking close to home where we do have guards posted for all of us?"

"Since I don't have an office anymore, sticking close to home seems a foregone conclusion, doesn't it?"

Heath looked at Nick. "He's talking like a lawyer again, isn't he?"

"You know lawyers," Nick said. "They never really stop being lawyers."

"You best remember that," Jarrod said, left money on the table for the tab and the tip, and got up to leave.

Nick and Heath were right behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They rode back home the same way they rode into town, Jarrod about fifty yards ahead of Nick and Heath, and again, there were no incidents. As they got close to the house, they rode in together and turned their horses over to the men who attended the barns. Jarrod had his horse groomed, while Nick and Heath noted they would be leaving again in only a few minutes.

When they went in, they found both Audra and Victoria doing some hand sewing in the parlor. They both looked up as if they had been trying to avoid thinking about what might be happening between here and town, and as if they were relieved to see everyone coming in unscathed. They did not get up.

Victoria said, "Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "Found out that Jarrod has a twin."

"What?" Victoria and Audra said in unison.

Then Victoria said, "If Jarrod had a twin, I think I'd know about it."

Jarrod said, "We haven't yet had a good look at the guy. Chances are there's just a vague resemblance and the clerk at the dry goods just hasn't been paying close attention."

"The clerk at the dry goods?"

"Somebody who looks like me and claiming to be from the ranch bought dynamite within the last week. It's the only sale in that time period. We figure that's the dynamite that leveled those buildings in town."

"So," Audra said, "you think someone who looks like you is responsible for bombing your office – but why? Whoever could it be and what would he have against you?"

Jarrod, Nick and Heath all shrugged at the same time.

"Until we can get to this guy, we're keeping guards posted here, and if either of you two go out, you're to have a guard with you," Nick said.

"All right," Victoria agreed.

With a sigh, Jarrod said, "I'll be getting back to my charred documents," and went off to the office.

They watched him go, and then Victoria said, "Has anyone else gotten a look at this man who looks like Jarrod?"

"I've gotten a glance," Heath said.

"And does he look like Jarrod?"

"Could be."

"Then he ought to be easy to find," Audra said.

"Fred knows about it," Nick said. "Meanwhile, we still have a ranch to run, but I think Heath and I will have a little night in town at the end of this day, so don't expect us for dinner, huh?"

Victoria nodded. "Just be careful."

Nick and Heath both nodded as they went back out the door.

XXXXXXX

An evening in the saloon in Stockton left Nick and Heath only with potential hangovers. Nobody there recalled seeing Jarrod's twin around town. Nobody remotely resembling Jarrod – heck, no one they did not know personally - came in at all. The closest friend they ran into was Carl Wheeler, who bought them a beer and sat down with them at a table near the back of the saloon.

Nick asked right away, "Carl, you seen a stranger around town who might look a little bit like Jarrod?"

Wheeler looked surprised. "No, Nick, can't say I have, but I haven't gotten in much lately. You thinking this is the guy who blew up Jarrod's office?"

"Don't know, just still following leads," Nick said.

Heath said, "The man at the dry goods store said someone who looked enough like Jarrod to be his twin bought dynamite there this past week, claiming it was for us."

"It wasn't for you," Wheeler said.

Nick and Heath both shook their heads.

"Somebody got into the house last night, too," Nick said. "Left Jarrod some rat poison for his coffee."

Wheeler whistled a low sound. "I'd say you folks have a big problem."

"Think some more, Carl," Nick said. "Have you heard anybody say they might have seen Jarrod around town in the last couple weeks? He's been in Sacramento for a month til yesterday."

"Aw, Nick, I'm sorry. If I heard such a thing, I didn't take note of it."

Nick nodded. "If you hear anything, let us know, huh? Until we get some handle on this, we have the house locked up tighter than San Quentin, and Jarrod's just about reached the end of his tolerance."

Wheeler gave a suspicious grunt. "Can't have that. Your brother's reputation for popping his cork is bad enough as it is. One more time of him going for somebody's throat, and all the women in town will start hauling their kids off the street when he goes by."

Nick and Heath looked at each other again. Wheeler wasn't joking.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was so late when Nick and Heath got home that even Jarrod had gone to bed. It was breakfast the next morning before they saw anyone, and Jarrod, for one, was looking very tired and drawn. And thoughtful.

"You thinking about going into town?" Nick asked him.

"I thought I'd check in with Fred," Jarrod said.

"Take a guard," Victoria said.

Jarrod gave her a glare.

She gave it right back. "I'd prefer you took a guard."

Jarrod gave her a deferential nod. "But he'll ride behind me. I'm not having anyone killed on my account, and that's not negotiable."

His mother gave him the deferential nod. "As long as you keep your eyes open."

Jarrod sat up straighter. "You know, if we put a guard on me every time someone threatened me, we'd have to hire someone permanently. When I became a lawyer, and especially when I became a prosecutor, we all knew it could mean my life would be threatened now and then."

"And a couple years ago you told me you were giving up prosecuting so you could minimize that risk," Victoria said.

"Which I did," Jarrod said, "but God knows I accumulated enough enemies before I gave it up. I can't undo any of that. I can make sure that you and Audra are safe and we're safe here at home, and I'll do that, but I'm not changing my life away from here simply because there's a threat out there. Father never did that. I won't either. One man, riding fifty yards behind me, and that's all I'll agree to."

Victoria gave him the deferential nod again.

Jarrod said, "I'll do some talking to people around town. We'll get to the bottom of this in the next day or two. I'd bet my reputation on that." He meant his reputation as a lawyer, not his reputation as a thug, but he let that go unsaid.

Jarrod's ride into town was, again, uneventful. He went straight to the sheriff's office, leaving his bodyguard waiting in the street. The sheriff was sitting at his desk, doing some paperwork.

"Morning, Fred," Jarrod said, feeling a bit more chipper than he had been lately, but that didn't last long.

Sheriff Madden got up. "Let me have your gun," he said, holding out his hand.

Jarrod looked uncertain, but took his holster off and handed it to the sheriff.

The sheriff put Jarrod's gun in a drawer of his desk, then opened the cell block door and motioned for Jarrod to follow him in.

Jarrod followed. There was only one inhabitant inside, in the nearest cell. The man turned around, and Jarrod met himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was spooky. This man looked almost exactly like Jarrod remembered he himself looked when he went off to war – thin, all arms and legs and high in cheekbone. And those same piercing blue eyes. Jarrod was startled to say the least, but the young man did not seem to be. He simply smiled.

"Who are you?" Jarrod asked, his voice a low growl that scared the sheriff more than it scared the young man.

"John Michaud," the young man said. His voice was deep like Jarrod's, but not quite the same.

"Did you throw dynamite into my office the other night?"

"No, I did not."

"Then why did you buy dynamite at the dry goods store under the Barkley name?"

The boy looked at Sheriff Madden. "Do I have to answer his questions?"

"No, you don't have to," Jarrod intervened, "but you would be wise to, because you are in a lot of trouble."

"This man is the finest attorney in Northern California. You best listen to him," the sheriff said.

"I know who he is," John Michaud said

"Who dynamited my office?" Jarrod asked.

"Will you be my lawyer?" John asked.

Jarrod was startled. "That's a little hard, considering I'm the victim of the crime."

"I want a deal to get me out of jail," the boy said. "Don't file any charges against me for being an accessory or anything else, and I'll tell you everything."

Jarrod looked over his shoulder at Sheriff Madden. "What charge did you arrest him on?"

"Accessory to the bombing," the sheriff said. "Looks like he bought the dynamite and gave the dynamite to someone else, who threw it into your office, or who passed it on to yet somebody else."

"Any other charge?"

"Not so far, but if he wants a deal, we'll have to bring Sam Arnold into this."

The local prosecutor. "Maybe you better go get him," Jarrod said.

Sheriff Madden looked a bit suspicious. "Can I have your word – "

Jarrod cut him off. "You have my word, I won't open this door and I won't touch him in any way."

"Be right back," the sheriff said and left.

The boy backed up from the door to the cell and stood with his back against the far wall. Jarrod backed up to stand with his back against the cell bars that were across the hallway he stood in. Jarrod lifted the front of his hat back and shoved his hands casually into his pants pockets.

"Just why do you look so much like me?" Jarrod asked.

John shook his head. "I don't know. Just one of those things, I guess."

Jarrod wondered if he should ask the next question, and decided to do it. "What's your mother's name?"

"I don't know," John said. "I was dumped at a convent when I was a baby."

"Where?"

"New Mexico territory, early part of the war. Best I can guess, my father was going off to fight, entertained himself with my mother for a night or two, and when I was born, she just got rid of me."

Jarrod felt his heart sink. He thought back to his travels east to join the army and he had to admit, yes, it was possible, but was it very likely? Jarrod looked at John Michaud and his heart sank even further. There was no way to ever really know for sure, but this kid looked so much like he remembered looking when he was that young that Jarrod could not look at him without trembling. So many emotions started flying around inside him, so many memories, so many future decisions and problems –

"Are you wondering if you're my father?" the kid asked.

"Seems appropriate," Jarrod said.

"Could you be?"

Jarrod said the same thing John had said to him. "I don't know."

"You didn't say 'no.' I guess that means 'possible.'"

Jarrod just stood there, trying to stay non-committal.

"I don't want anything from you, even if you are my father. I got my own life and I don't need anybody else's. I just want out of here."

"Why are you in Stockton?" Jarrod asked.

The boy shrugged. "I've been on the drift since I was 14. Found myself up here in California and people started asking me if I was Jarrod Barkley's son. Decided to come take a look for myself."

"Where were you raised?"

"New Mexico, Catholic orphanage. I ran away."

"Who did you give the dynamite to?"

John smiled. "Why don't we save that question for when the prosecutor gets here?"

Jarrod almost had to laugh. This kid was thinking like a lawyer – scary. But maybe it was just because he'd had a bit of experience with the criminal justice system. "Been in trouble before?"

"A bit, here and there," John said.

"Anything serious?"

"Not this serious."

"You don't seem very bothered by the whole thing."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"You misrepresented yourself when you bought the dynamite."

John shrugged. "I'd like to talk to the prosecutor before we start talking about that."

Jarrod did laugh then. "You should be a lawyer," he said.

The boy shook his head. "No, thanks. I'd sooner stay on the drift."

"Well, I'm not sure I blame you for that," Jarrod said.

"My turn," John said.

"For what?"

"To ask questions."

"Go ahead."

"I know a bit about you, and your family. Let's say I show up at your dinner table. Would I get the boot just because I look like you, whether you're my father or not?"

Jarrod thought. "No, I don't think so – though I might."

They both laughed at that. Jarrod looked at John and not only saw his physical self all those years ago – he saw his temperamental self. More at ease, more sure of himself, happy and so very young. Life and responsibilities and tragedies and anger hadn't taken their toll yet. Ah, boy, whoever you are, I hope your path is a bit easier than mine, he thought, but he knew that wasn't likely. Life was not a series of easy paths. It was a series of trials you either passed or you failed, and where the judges were, who knew?

"I don't suppose it would be so bad if you were my father," the boy said.

"Thanks. But there's no way we'll ever know for sure."

John shrugged. "I've never needed to know who my father and mother were, and I still don't."

Sheriff Madden came back in with Sam Arnold in tow. The prosecutor, several years Jarrod's junior, looked from Jarrod to John and back again. "Well," he said and left it at that.

Jarrod turned to go out. "I'll leave you to talk about a deal, but John – you might want to get your own lawyer on this. I can send somebody over."

"Let's just see how this conversation goes," John said.

Jarrod went out, and Sheriff Madden followed him, closing the cell block door so Arnold and John could talk privately. Jarrod stopped in the middle of the room, his mind still whirling with questions and decisions to be made.

"Jarrod," Sheriff Madden said as he handed Jarrod his holster, "is that boy – " He got stuck and couldn't figure out how to ask the rest.

Jarrod didn't look at him, but smiled to himself and strapped on his gun. "Fred, did you serve at all in the war?"

"No," the sheriff said. "Too many family responsibilities."

"We were so young," Jarrod said, "going off to 'see the elephant.' Traveling east with other young men – from both sides. Stopping to wait for one train or another. Passing the time. It's possible. He could be. But there's no way to know for sure – no way at all."

Sheriff Madden got the gist of what Jarrod was saying. "What are you going to say to your family?"

"The truth, I suppose. Has anybody ever gotten away with less with my mother?"

Sheriff Madden gave a small smile. "For what it's worth, I believe him. He didn't throw that dynamite into your office. Somebody duped him into buying it, maybe thinking he could get away with what he got away with – impersonating you."

"I believe him, too, but that means there's still somebody to go after."

"If Sam cuts him a deal, maybe we'll get that pretty easily. Kid's a natural born lawyer." It wasn't until after he said it that the sheriff realized what he said.

Jarrod finally looked at him. "Runs in the family? I'll be over at the saloon, Fred. Let me know what happens here. I think I need a drink."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jarrod trudged over to the saloon, passing his body guard without even remembering he was there. The man just followed him over and stood at the bar, leaving him alone. The saloon was not busy yet – still too early – but not too early to start drinking. Jarrod got a bottle of really cheap scotch and sat down at a table alone with it.

He nursed it for a long time, thinking. How was he going to explain this to his family, especially to his mother and to Heath? Shame washed over him again, shame almost as bad as what he felt when he finally regained his senses after coming home from Rimfire. A different kind of shame to be sure, but still – utter shame.

He hadn't thought about his – misadventures – on his way to war and back since they happened, but now, the memories were almost overwhelming. _I am not the man I thought I was. How many times am I going to be learning that lesson now? How many different men will I be before I know who I really am?_ He chuckled. _I'll never know who I really am, will I? As soon as I learn to live with one "me" another one comes along._

The more he drank the more convoluted his thinking became. His body guard came over to him at one point and asked him if he was ready to go back to the ranch. Jarrod looked up with half bleary eyes and said, "No." The man could see he was well on his way to being drunk if he finished off the bottle alone. He wondered if he should go fetch Nick or Heath, but he did not want to leave Jarrod in case he decided to wander on home alone, so the man just went back up to the bar and spent his time there nursing one beer.

Sam Arnold came in after about an hour and a half. Jarrod was still sober enough to understand what Arnold was saying to him.

"We finally have a deal, but the boy will have to stay in jail until the circuit judge comes the day after tomorrow," Arnold said. "He gave us the name of the man who dynamited your office."

"Who was it?" Jarrod asked.

"Fella named Frank Timmons. He was hired, but the boy didn't know who hired him, so we'll have to find him before we get to the bottom of this. Boy says Timmons was toying with you, planning to weaken you up, before he kills you."

Jarrod sighed. "So I'm still a target."

"Looks like it. Until we get this Timmons and find out who hired him, you'd better keep your guards up."

"Is John Michaud going to have to do any time?"

"No. I'll ask for time served, and that's only a couple days. The boy is sharp, I'll tell you. Handled himself like you handle your defendants. I wanted him to do some time for buying the dynamite fraudulently, but he wouldn't give up Timmons if he couldn't get time served for every possible charge we could bring against him on this. You ought to be proud – I mean, if he is – "

"I don't know if he is and he doesn't know if he is and neither one of us will ever really know if he is," Jarrod said, his words beginning to go wandering off his tongue without the consonants necessarily being connected to the vowels they were supposed to be connected to.

"Look, man, why don't you get yourself a room at the hotel and sleep this off? It's not even noon, and you don't want to go home like this."

Jarrod looked at the bottle. "No. I'll get something to eat and quit drinking and it'll be all right in an hour or so."

"You can go see the boy again if you'd like."

Jarrod shook his head. "Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Sam – keep your mouth shut about all this, will you? I got enough people in this town worried about what I've turned into. I don't need another black eye."

"Jarrod, anybody who knows you knows the kind of man you are. You can be trusted. You're intelligent and passionate about justice and you care about people. You're the same man you've always been."

Jarrod smiled. "No, I'm not. Or maybe I am but I never really knew who that was."

Arnold got up and gave Jarrod a friendly slap on the back. "You're still the man I would turn to if I were in big trouble."

Jarrod gave him an appreciative nod of the head, and Arnold left.

Jarrod got himself some beef stew and bread from the saloon and he let the bottle stay about half full. He wasn't so drunk that the food made him sick, and it didn't take long for his head to begin to clear, once he got his stomach full. He finished it off with coffee at about half past noon, then got up and walked over to his bodyguard.

"Come on, Homer, time to get back to the ranch," he said, giving the man a friendly slap on the back.

"My name is Mike," the man said.

"Sure it is, Homer," Jarrod said and went out to find his horse and go home.

Jarrod had an uneventful ride home. When he got to the barns, he waited for Mike to catch up with him and dismissed him with a "Thanks, Homer, you can go be with the cows now." He didn't realize until he saw Nick's horse that Nick and probably Heath too had come in for lunch. The time of reckoning was going to come sooner than he had planned. He went into the house.

No one came to greet him, so he figured they were in the dining room. He left his hat and gunbelt on the rack in the hallway before he went in there and found out he was right. They were all there, talking animatedly, eating good food together.

"Jarrod!" Victoria said. "We gave up on you an hour ago!"

Jarrod gave her a kiss on the forehead, noticing that they were all pretty much finished. She noted the scotch on his breath but let it go. Silas was clearing the plates, and as soon as he left the room, Jarrod said, "I need to have a little discussion with everyone. Do you mind if we adjourn to the library?"

"Shall I have Silas bring coffee?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod immediately envisioned one or more family members hurling it at him. "I don't think so."

They looked at one another, concerned, and a little afraid they knew what Jarrod was going to tell them, but they followed him silently. Nick took a moment to duck into the kitchen to tell Silas where they were going and they did not want to be disturbed, then hurried along.

When they all came into the library, Jarrod closed the doors. Victoria and Audra sat down on the sofa; Nick and Heath remained standing. Jarrod took a deep breath, hanging his head, remaining by the doors with his back up against them.

"I met the young man who looks like me today," he said. "His name is John Michaud. He comes from New Mexico. He was abandoned as a baby, early part of the war. And he looks almost exactly like I looked at his age."

Everyone was thinking the same thing and wondering who was going to be the first to say it. Nick and Heath looked at each other, then at their mother. They didn't want her to have to say it.

So Heath did. "Is he your son, Jarrod?"

Jarrod looked up. "It's possible. He has no idea who his parents were. His mother abandoned him at a convent and he was raised in an orphanage. He – suspects but doesn't know that his father was a soldier passing through on his way to the war."

Victoria finally spoke up. "When you say it's possible he is your son – "

Jarrod looked at her. "I spent – some time with a young girl in New Mexico while I was on my way east. I don't even remember her name or what she looked like. I am – ashamed to say that I didn't care enough to remember. I spent some time with her and then I left her and never looked back."

He hung his head again.

"Is the kid in jail?" Nick asked.

"Yes," Jarrod said, "but he's not the one who dynamited the office. He bought the dynamite at the behest of someone named Timmons, who was hired by somebody else, so the threat continues. John has cut a deal for himself and he should be out of jail the day after tomorrow when the circuit court judge gets into town."

There was a heavy, awful silence in the room for too long a time. Then Victoria said, "Jarrod – what do you intend to happen now?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. "I plan to go talk to him again tomorrow, but when I talked to him today, he had no interest in who his parents were or who I might be. He's been drifting for several years and he seems to like it that way."

It was Heath who turned away. This was cutting a little too close to home for him. He could almost forgive his older brother's youthful indiscretions, but he couldn't imagine how anybody would prefer being on the drift to having a home and a family. He'd spent too much time that way before he came here. Jarrod noticed Heath had his back to him, and he decided not to question why.

Victoria got up. "I think perhaps it might be a good idea if Audra and I left the three of you to talk about this among yourselves. We can discuss it more thoroughly together after dinner."

Audra got up and followed her mother to the door, where Jarrod still stood, blocking it. He looked at his mother and he saw the bitter disappointment in her eyes. He stood aside and let her and Audra leave. Then he closed the door again.

"Aw, Jarrod," Nick said right away with a big sigh.

"Don't lecture me and don't 'aw, Jarrod' me," Jarrod said. "We're not schoolboys here and we're certainly not saints, despite what our mother might like to believe. But even she doesn't believe it. I can't say that there's not another one of my offspring running around out there somewhere, and Nick, if you don't say the same thing I'll – drink the Sacramento River."

Nick shrugged.

Then Jarrod looked at Heath. "Heath, I won't speak for you. Your life has been different and given how you came into the world and grew up – "

Heath quickly shook his head, but otherwise didn't answer the implied question. "I don't think anybody is judging you here, Jarrod. We're just wondering what to do."

"I'm not sure there's anything to do," Jarrod said. "The boy - man - he's both I guess. He says he doesn't want anything. He just wants to get out of jail and keep living the life he's been living, but I'm not even sure what that life has been about and – is that just bravado anyway? What should I say to him? It is damned likely I am his father, and I – want the chance to be that to him, but if he doesn't want it – if his life has been full of trouble with the law – " Jarrod left it there, not sure what to say next, not sure what to do.

"I know one thing for sure," Heath said. "If he wants to be part of this family, Mother will accept him the same as she accepted me."

Nick said, "She accepted you because you stood with us as Tom Barkley's son when we needed you to, and you had the proof with you. If this kid is on the drift and wants to stay that way, you can bet he's been skirting the law for years and will likely keep it up. I don't know how Mother would react to a grandson like that."

Heath said, "I do. She'd give him a chance, at least, if he wants to stay."

"I plan to talk to him again tomorrow," Jarrod said. "I'm not sure what I'll say. I'm not sure what I'll say to Mother tonight. I just know – that I've gotten another lesson in humility."

He shook his head and left the room, then left the house, and took off on a long, long walk.

Nick and Heath watched him go from the window. "He doesn't have a body guard," Heath said.

"He won't leave the property on foot," Nick said. "He'll be all right."

They ran into their mother in the foyer. They could tell by her expression that she had let Jarrod go without a word only because she did not know what to say to him. Jarrod was right about one thing. She had no illusions about things her sons had done away from this house. And young though she was, Audra had no illusions either.

Nick and Heath just stood there, looking ashamed, for Jarrod and maybe a little for themselves.

Victoria just said, "You both better think about how you will feel if we are to have another member of this family."

"Already are," Nick said.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

They skipped the pre-dinner drinks that evening, and dinner went so quietly it was uncomfortable. After Silas had begun clearing the plates, Victoria told him they would be in the library again and did not want to be disturbed. When they went there together, Victoria remained standing, and she was the one who began speaking first.

"Audra and I have spent almost all afternoon discussing this situation," she said, and Jarrod cast a glance Audra's way. "Now, no one in this room is naïve enough to think this might not have come up at some point. My concern right now is shall we invite this young man here as soon as he is released from jail? Jarrod, you, of course, have the main say but we all have a stake in this. If I have a grandson, I at least want to meet him and preferably not in jail."

Jarrod took a deep breath. "I can only talk to him about it, but you best be prepared for him to decline. I'm not saying he will, but…" He let the sentence trail off.

"I'm not sure I'm in favor of him coming here," Nick said. "All we have is the fact he looks like Jarrod and it's possible – only possible – that Jarrod is his father. I'd rather go talk to him some and get my own idea of who he is and what he does or doesn't want."

"No," Jarrod said right away.

Nick glared at him. "I think whether I see him or not would be up to Fred – "

"No," Jarrod repeated. "The boy's done nothing to warrant the third degree from us. He wants nothing from us, and it's entirely possible that he would decline any invitation to come here anyway. Let me talk to him tomorrow. If you want me to, Mother, I'll ask if he'll stay around after he's released and come out here for a lunch or – something."

"Our only other option is to see him in jail," Audra said. "I think it would be a big mistake if he left Stockton without even meeting us. We all know what foolish decisions we can make when we're young. If he is my nephew, how can I let him make a foolish mistake like that?"

"He's a man, not a child," Jarrod said. "He's been on his own and making his own decisions for a long time, and quite frankly – there is some wisdom in him. If we all agree, I will ask him to come out here after he's released, at least meet with us. But I'll abide by his decision. If he wants to ride away and never see us again, I won't argue with him."

Nick shrugged an agreement, and Heath and Audra both nodded. Victoria approached Jarrod and kissed him on the cheek. Then she left the room and they did not see her again for the rest of the evening.

XXXXXXX

The next morning, Jarrod mounted up to ride into Stockton and found his brothers mounting up beside him. They had decided to be his bodyguards for the day. Jarrod suspected ulterior motives but he didn't argue with them. Again, they held about fifty yards back and again, there was no trouble on the way.

They noticed right away that men were working to haul away the debris from the explosion. Jarrod paused for a moment nearby to watch, remaining mounted, wondering how he was ever going to replace all the books and furniture that had been destroyed. Nick and Heath pulled in beside him, but while he watched the workers, they again watched the watchers.

The watchers were keeping a distance, pretty much staying across the street, and again it was mostly passers by who stopped for a few moments. Neither Nick nor Heath saw anyone they remembered seeing when Jarrod was going through the debris for items to salvage, but they knew it would have been easy to forget faces from a couple days ago.

Jarrod moved on toward the jail without a word, and his brothers followed. They dismounted, hitched their horses and went into the office together. Sheriff Madden was locking the door to the cell block when they came in. One of the waitresses from the café across the street was there, carrying John's breakfast tray out. She nodded to the three handsome men coming in, and they all tipped their hats to her. Nick held the door for her as she went out.

"Morning, Fred," Jarrod said and removed his gunbelt.

Sheriff Madden took it from him. As he did, Nick asked, "You had any luck finding this Timmons fellow?"

The sheriff shook his head. "John gave us a good description, but it matches a lot of other men, and Timmons hasn't turned up. There's an outside chance he's left town."

"A real outside chance, I'd say," Jarrod said. "Fred, I've been thinking. If John is released tomorrow and Timmons is still on the loose – "

"John becomes a bigger target than you've been, I know," the sheriff said. "And Jarrod, if he is your son – he becomes a bigger target still. So far whoever hired Timmons seems to want to hurt you before he kills you. If Timmons thinks this boy is your son – "

"He becomes the prime target," Jarrod said, nodding. "I know. I've thought about that, too. Is it all right if I go talk to him?"

Sheriff Madden unlocked the cell block door, and Jarrod went in alone, the sheriff closing the door behind him. Then he stood looking at Nick and Heath with a "what do we do now" look on his face.

"We gotta find Timmons," Heath said. "We gotta do it now."

Sheriff Madden said, "He's dark-haired, brown-eyed, about five-ten or eleven, about 30 years old, weighs about 150. Good luck."

That description fit half the men in the county. Nick and Heath looked at each other and as they headed out the door, Nick said, "Tell Jarrod not to budge till we get back."

Inside the cell block, Jarrod accepted a small smile from John before he said, "I hear you cut a sweetheart deal."

John shrugged. "I got what I wanted."

Jarrod nodded. "So, the judge comes tomorrow. I've never known him to reject a plea bargain deal, so you should be free by tomorrow morning. Have thought about what you want to do then?"

"Get out of town," John said, his smile larger.

Jarrod nodded again. "There's more than one way to do that. I talked with my family about you yesterday, quite a bit."

"I figured."

"If you're interested, they'd like you to come out to the house. They'd like to meet you."

John hung his head. "I don't know."

"No strings," Jarrod said. "Except for one."

"What's that?"

"You leave here, you become Frank Timmons's biggest target, not just because of how you might be related to me. You're also the prime witness against him."

John nodded. "I've thought about that."

"Come out to the ranch with me, we can at least give you some protection until Timmons is caught."

"That might take a while. I've never been one to sit still for very long."

"Have you ever been in a man's gun sights like this before?"

John laughed and scratched the side of his head. "No."

"I have a good family, John. They want to meet you."

"Want to?"

"They've pretty much decided that you are my son. Me, I don't know. I suspect you and I have the same outlook on that – cautious, not sure what we want things to be. If we commit to one another as father and son – both our lives change, a lot."

John looked at him with the same piercing blue eyes Jarrod was used to seeing in the mirror. "Are you ready for that?"

Jarrod heaved a sigh. "I lost my wife a while back. We didn't have any children. I haven't been – well, I haven't been much of one for commitment since then, any kind of commitment."

"And I haven't been much for commitment ever," John said. "Never had the opportunity. Never wanted it."

They looked at each other. Jarrod smiled a little. "If you're not my son, I'd be surprised as hell."

John laughed. "Well, we're still stuck with the same question – should I go meet your family or not? What will they expect outta me?"

"I told them you were cautious about things, that you've been drifting for several years and you like it. I told them I'd abide by whatever decision you made as to whether this relationship goes anywhere or not."

"You ever been on the drift?"

John's question startled Jarrod. "I wouldn't say I've ever been on the drift. I have left my family for a while and taken off for different reasons more than once. Not always good reasons. Reasons that got me into big trouble. Mistakes. I expect I'll make more."

"Just me being around could get you or one of your relatives shot by accident," John said.

"We've all been targets before, and my family already are targets because they're my family. I've taken lots of cases over the years that put us exactly where we are now. I've been beaten up. I've been shot. I'm not afraid of being shot accidentally or on purpose because of all this. I'm more afraid that one of my family members might be. That includes you."

John took a deep breath. "I gotta think about things. Whether I meet your family – it's a big decision."

Jarrod nodded. "I understand."

"I'll decide by tomorrow."

Jarrod nodded again, said, "All right. Do you want me with you when you go before the judge?"

John shook his head. "No. I – don't think so, no."

"All right," Jarrod said. "If you think you want to meet the rest of the family, take a room at the hotel. Tell them to put it on my bill. I'll meet you there about five o'clock tomorrow evening. If you're there, I'll take you back to the house for dinner with us. If you're not – well, then, I'll know your decision."

John nodded, and Jarrod started to leave, but John said, "Uh, listen – "

Jarrod stopped.

John said, "Whatever I decide – I'm sorry for my part in this whole thing. I don't know what I was thinking when I bought Frank that dynamite. I guess I wasn't thinking. I guess I learned a lesson on that one."

Jarrod nodded. "Lessons are hard. You don't go through life without learning a bunch of them."

"You'd make a good father, you know," John said.

"Thanks," Jarrod said. "I hope – I hope – well, I hope all the best for you, John. But I hope you know if you ever need me…"

John nodded.

Jarrod left the block feeling very heavy, very frightened that he would never see John Michaud again, and he wanted to. _I'm never going to have a son,_ he thought to himself. _John might be the only one._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When Jarrod left the cell block and got out into the sheriff's office, he was surprised to find Nick and Heath gone. He looked the question at Sheriff Madden, who said, "They've gone to see if they can find Timmons."

Jarrod got his holster and headed for the door.

"They wanted me to keep you here," the sheriff said.

"Not a chance," Jarrod growled and went out after his brothers.

Their horses were still hitched in front of the sheriff's office, so they were clearly on foot, somewhere around town. The only place Jarrod could think to try was one of the saloons, even if it was awfully early. He went to the nearest one, not too far across the street. The bartender there told him Nick and Heath had been there and gone, so Jarrod headed for the next place up the street.

He ran into Nick and Heath coming out just as he was going in.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Jarrod blurted out at them.

"Looking for the man who's trying to mess up your life, or take it," Nick said.

"Armed with what? A description that fits half the men in town?"

"We gotta start somewhere, Jarrod," Heath said.

"Have you had any luck?"

"Well, no."

"You can bet this Frank Timmons is not in town," Jarrod said. "He'll know John has been picked up and he's probably been compromised. If he hits me in any way again, it'll be on the way home, or on the way back into town some other time."

"So, we going home?" Nick asked.

"Same way we came in," Jarrod said. "You let me leave, and you follow by about fifty yards."

"We're not having much luck with that."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Yeah, and we are too," Heath agreed with a shrug aimed at Nick.

Nick motioned for Jarrod to go on back to his horse. Jarrod headed back across the street toward the sheriff's office, where he mounted up and headed back out of town.

Nick and Heath mounted up and followed by about fifty yards, as promised.

They were about three quarters of the way home when Nick and Heath heard the shots. They pulled up hard, looking. Heath saw the flash of the muzzle when another shot rang out. "There!" he pointed up toward the top of a hill to their left and took off up that way.

Nick took off further down the road, assuming the shots had been aimed at Jarrod. He saw Jarrod's horse galloping down the road toward home, without Jarrod. He saw Heath crest the top of the hill, high-tailing after a man on horseback. Then he saw Jarrod, on the ground but pushing himself up. Nick rode up next to him, but Jarrod waved him off.

"I'm all right! Go after Heath!"

Nick took off up the hill. When he crested it, he saw both Heath and the other man heading down the other side. He rode hard after them but lost sight of them until he heard more shots off to his right. He rode off in that direction, heard more shots and rode faster.

He found the source in less than a minute. Heath was off his horse, standing with his gun drawn, staring down at the ground where a man lay face down. The man's loose horse was not far away, just standing, grazing aimlessly. Nick rode up to Heath and dismounted.

"Is he dead?" Nick asked.

"He took three shots at me," Heath said. "I had to fire back. I didn't want to kill him because he's our only way of finding out who hired him but – "

Nick rolled the man onto his back. He fit the description of Frank Timmons, and he was dead with two bullets in him.

Nick stood up. "Let's get him up over his horse and go check on Jarrod."

"Do you know if he was hit?"

"I don't think so but he took a fall off his horse. Come on. You get the horse and we'll get this guy hoisted up."

Together, they got the man draped over his saddle and secured with rope so that he would not fall off before they got him to town. Heath said, "I'll get him started toward Stockton – you go check on Jarrod."

Nick mounted up and went back over the hill. By the time he got down to where his older brother was, Jarrod had pushed himself up from the ground, but he was doubled over, holding his ribs. Alarmed, Nick rode up to him and dismounted fast.

"Jarrod?"

Jarrod blurted in pain when Nick touched him.

"Ribs?" Nick asked.

"Aw, God – " Jarrod moaned and fell to his knees.

Nick fell with him. "Jarrod, can you hold on while I get help?"

Jarrod nodded.

Nick mounted and took off for the ranch.

XXXXXX

Jarrod was astonished to wake up at home in his bed. The last thing he knew, he was out on the road, on the ground, and then suddenly he was here, with his family around him and the doctor beside him.

"What happened?" he asked, and found his throat so dry it almost closed.

"Timmons took a shot at you and your horse threw you," Nick said.

"I know that, but how'd I get here?"

"I went back for you, and then went for help, but when we got back to you, you had passed out," Nick said. "We brought you here. You got some busted ribs."

"And some internal bleeding," the doctor said, "which is why you passed out, but I don't think you punctured a lung or anything important. Just tore some abdominal muscles, and that can hurt like the blazes."

Jarrod tried to move and the pain made him stop before anyone present could. "God – " he started swearing but stopped himself.

"Don't go moving around," the doctor said. "It's going to hurt a lot."

"I noticed," Jarrod said. "Timmons. What happened to Timmons?"

"I had to kill him, Jarrod," Heath said.

"We still don't know who hired him," Victoria said.

Jarrod closed his eyes. "Which means, we're all still targets."

"It's possible," Nick said.

Victoria said, "It's not anything worth worrying about right now. You just need to heal."

"I wanted to try to talk to John again tomorrow."

His family looked at one another. Victoria said, "Jarrod, you woke up two days ago in a lot of pain and the doctor gave you medication that put you back to sleep. John was released from jail yesterday."

Jarrod opened his eyes and looked from one person to another. They all looked like there was more they did not want to tell him.

But Victoria said, "I'm sorry. Fred said he just got his horse from the livery and rode out of town. He doesn't know where he went."

Jarrod sighed so deeply it actually hurt his ribs. "Did anybody check around town for him? I told him to take a room at the hotel – "

"We checked, Jarrod," Heath said. "He didn't take a room or stay anyplace else. He's gone."

"Did he know Timmons was dead?"

"Yeah, he knew," Nick said.

 _Well, I guess I have John's decision_ , Jarrod thought.

"Jarrod, I don't want to give you anything else that makes you sleep, but I am going to give you something mild for the pain," the doctor said.

Jarrod shook his head. "If it's only mild, it's not gonna ease my pain one bit," he said. There was too much of too many kinds of pain for anything to help it.

XXXXXXX

Because of the torn abdominal muscles, it took more than a week for Jarrod to heal enough to get up and around. Over that time he kept hoping for a letter or something in the mail from John, just to say he was all right if nothing else, but there never was anything. Jarrod had to face an unhappy truth – John was gone and that was that. He'd made his decision, and Jarrod was bound to honor it.

When he was finally able to get outside again, even with the help of a cane, he found the beautiful weather and the warm sun almost too much to take. He just did not feel as good as the weather wanted him to.

In one way he felt foolish for caring so much that the boy was gone. There was no proof John was his son – so why had he come to feel so much like he was? They'd only had a couple conversations in the jail. Was it because John looked so much like him that he'd really felt a tie there almost immediately? Or was it because he saw so much of the man he used to be in that happy nonchalance and those young blue eyes?

It didn't matter what it was. John was gone, and he would not be coming back. There was nothing to do but accept it.

Jarrod watched the men collect their pay on payday and go happily off to town to get rid of it before he turned to make his way back into the house. He found his mother standing about twenty feet behind him. He smiled and made his way to her.

"It worried me when I found you'd left the house," she said.

"I didn't go far," he said. "Just needed some fresh air for a change."

"You're moving around all right?"

"A little pain. Not much. I should be good as new in a week or so."

"That'll be just in time to work with the architect Nick hired to rebuild your office. He hired the same firm that built it to begin with, so you'll be able to have it the way you wanted it in the first place, if that's what you want now."

"I'll think about that. Guess they've cleared away all the rubble by now."

"Yes. The brick and mortar part, anyway."

Jarrod thought about the way she put that. She knew what she was saying, and what he was thinking about. "His choice, Mother. He's a man and he's made his own life. At least he's out of harm's way." He hoped.

"I'm sorry I never met him, Jarrod."

Jarrod smiled a little. "You'd have liked him. He's just like I was when I was 17."

Victoria smiled. "You believe he is your son, don't you?"

"Yes. So, I guess this low level of worry won't be going away."

"It comes with being a parent. They're always a part of you. You always worry. Are you worried that someone might still be coming after him, because of you?"

Jarrod nodded. "And after you."

Victoria shook her head. "If there's one thing we've all probably learned over the years, it's that we can't live in fear of who might be after us. There are too many who might."

"I know, but when someone else is hurt because of me – "

"It's not because of you. It's because of whoever does the damage. But for now, I'm not going to worry about it. For now, I'm just going to get you back inside and off your feet. Don't go pushing it."

"Yes, ma'am," Jarrod sighed. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

He let her take his arm and they headed back into the house. He thought about sons – he had a son, and he was a son. If he couldn't treasure his own son, at least he could treasure his mother.

And that led him to think again about the threat against her, and against John, and against them all. It was still out there somewhere.

Where?

THE END

(for now…)


End file.
